


Lipstick Stain (John Wick x Reader Oneshot)

by ficsnroses



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, Canadian Actor RPF, John Wick (Comics), John Wick (Movies), John Wick (Movies) RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23322718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsnroses/pseuds/ficsnroses
Summary: John needs to leave the house, but finds Y/N has left a very stubborn lipstick stain on his cheek that he can’t seem to get off.
Relationships: John Wick & You, John Wick/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Lipstick Stain (John Wick x Reader Oneshot)

With a content sigh, you placed a freshly brewed mug of mint tea on the window ledge, doused with just the right amount of honey, and a kiss of tart lemon. With a novel in one hand, and a spare tea bag packet in the other, you propped your legs up on the fabric gray loveseat, crossing them, ready to be whisked away into a well deserved, good read.

You had just returned from an interview with a local TV news outlet. With the success of your first novel becoming a best seller, a sequel was undoubtedly on the cards. After 2 long years of hard work and endless re writes, the release was finally around the corner, leaving you bombarded with interviews and book signings in the upcoming weeks.

You had heard the shower in your master bed room running on your voyage into the house. John must have been doing some yard work, or perhaps cleaning and maintaining his beloved Mustang to be in the shower at 2:30pm on a Monday, which is why you opted to wait for him downstairs in the living room until he was out.

You, were in much need of some one on one time with _your_ John. Lately, you had been out of the house meeting endless sums of people on the daily for the book release, but had barely been seeing the only person that really mattered. John – your fiancé.

John had proposed to you the same day you got the news of your book being approved for publishing. He claimed he had been waiting for the perfect day, and what could possibly be better than the day your lifelong dream came true? He took you out to the fancier side of town that summer evening, and did it after dinner by the golden lit seawall. You’ve felt on cloud nine since.

Neither you or John have family of your own, but soon after meeting each other, _falling in love with each other,_ you’ve been one another’s family since. You only needed each other. Not to mention, you were looking forward to _starting_ your own family together as well. John and you both wanted kids – both wanted to give them the lives you didn’t get growing up. The thought of bearing John’s children often left you smiling and sent butterflies adrift inside you. John is going to be most amazing father; you just know it. His patience, his care, and the abundance of love he has to offer assure it. You see it in the way he treats you.

With the hardcover spine of the book pressed to your chest, you feel your lips curl into a genuine smile. Life is good with John. Life is so sweet, with John — where is John? Your hazy daydreamed train of thought ends with a ponder, right as you hear the master bedroom’s door creek open upstairs, followed by the flashy thud of footsteps down the stairs.

“I’m hoooome!” you sing out loud, with a melodious ring, letting John know you’re home from press.

“Hi love,” you hear John call out from the kitchen. You can’t see him yet, he must have stopped to grab a bottle of water or something.

Finally, with a turn of the corner, you see the man of your dreams smiling at you from the doorway, water bottle in hand, his long borderline brunette hair falling perfectly around his face. His cheeks are tinged a light blush of pink, probably from the warmth of the shower. Of course, a little from seeing you as well.

Extending your arms, holding out for him, you wave him over.

“C’mere,” You smile, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.

You see him begin to stride over, grinning big, eyes fixed on you, hands tucked securely away in his blue jean pockets. Gosh, his toned, broad arms look dreamy in his favourite white Henley shirt he’s thrown on.

“Hey, you.” he says sweetly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he hovers over you, cupping your cheek. With your arms still stretched out for him, you lightly pull him down by the waist.

“Hi,” you beam, staring at his candied lips.

Placing himself down beside you, your arms immediately wrap around his mid, nuzzling your face into his chest, inhaling his pined wood scent. He chuckles, before wrapping his arms around you, gently stoking your hair.

“How was the interview, baby?” he asks, pressing a few more kisses to your hair.

“It was fine. I missed you, though.” You grin up at him, making eye contact. You could get lost in those café au lait eyes any day.

John kisses your temple, arms wrapping more securely around you now, his fingers dancing across your hips. “I missed you too. Yard work wasn’t as fun without you watch me from the sidelines.” He snickered.

“I thought you were probably doing yard work, or working on the Mustang. Seems like a bit of a off time to have a shower.” You say, stroking a few strands of his hair out of his face, running your thumb under the soft skin under his eye.

“Yeah, I’m actually heading out soon. Meeting to discuss some work stuff.” He sighs.

“What? Nooo John, please.” You whine, not wanting him to leave.

“I’ll be back before you know it, princess. It’s important.” He asserts, running his bulky hand up and down your back soothingly.

You moan, disagreeing. “You couldn’t have this meeting while I was gone this morning?” you playfully punch his chest. “Why do you do it, Johnathan.” You shake your head sarcastically, pulling away from him.

“Well I don’t just run on my own time, darling.” He smiles back, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a kiss on your palm. Raising off the couch, he pulls you close by the wrist, finally capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

“I’ll be back before dinner. Promise. How about you get lost in this book in the meantime, and tell me all about it when I get back?” he suggests, picking the book up off the coffee table, and handing it back into your grip.

“Okay, I guess.” You sigh, following him to the front door as he pulls his distressed brown leather jacket over his shoulders. As he opens the front door with keys in hand, you tippy toe up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you, be safe.” You say, placing a last kiss to his cheek.

Pulling back down however, you stare back at him in horror. Perhaps….you forgot….that you were wearing a deep shade of mahogany red lip stain. It wasn’t something you did often, but being on TV was occasion enough for such a daring tint.

“Oh my…babe…” you slowly say, staring at the bright red lip mark you had left on his cheek.

“What? What happen?” John questions, bringing his hand up to his cheek, feeling around. Unintentionally, he smears the lipstick a bit wider.

“I may have left a mark.”

“What? Like a hickey?” he questions.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I left a hickey on your cheek just by kissing it briefly, John. No, idiot. A lipstick stain.” You bit your lip.

John’s eyes widen slightly, as he begins to walk to the washroom mirror, you trailing behind.

“Oh my god. Babe, take it off.” He states, slightly in shock. “I can’t go into a meeting like this.” John smears his fingers over the stain, only making it worse by spreading it.

“John! Don’t do that, you’re making it worse.” You exclaim. “Lemme try some water.” You say, grabbing a tissue paper from the box and dampening it under the running sink. Ringing it out, you dab it onto John’s skin, before trying to rub the stain off.

“It’s not budging!” you say, brows furrowing together as you work at the stain, holding John in place by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You have to get it off, Y/N,” John says, worry evident in his tone. “this isn’t really professional looking.”

“I’m trying!” you reply, throwing the tissue into the bin in defeat. John immediately scrambles to grab another tissue, frantically rubbing it across his cheek. “What the fuck, is this permanent?” he asks, eyeing you.

“Of course not. It might just take…some time.” You shrug. “Of course you could try…I don’t know, maybe some olive oil?” you propose.

John begins rushing out of the washroom to the kitchen.

“Wait, you’re not mad at me, right?” you ask, lightly.

“No, baby, you didn’t mean to. I just need to actually go out in public soon and meet people.” John says, browsing the kitchen cupboard for olive oil. Once retrieved, he spills a few drops to his finger and begins rubbing it to the stain.

“Is it working?” he asks, looking your way.

“No, not really.” You lowley say. “It’s only spreading further.”

Johns eyes widen again, and you can tell he’s borderline worried, borderline confused. “Y/N, what do I do? Is this gonna be on my face for like a week or something?” he asks, voice raised slightly as his eyes glace around the room for another solution. Your feel a smirk threaten to creep onto your lips.

“I guess. There’s really nothing else we can do, baby. It may even take up to a month at worst.” You frown. John has shock plastered on his face at this point. Running a hand through his hair, he wearily sighs.

Silence fills the room for a few brief moments, before you burst out cackling. “Baby, you’re so naïve.” You laugh, slapping your knee.

John grows even more confused. “What?”

“It’s lipstick, honey. Of course it comes off, you’ve _seen_ me take it off of myself every night.” You giggle. “You know? With those special makeup wipes I use.” You gesture to him.

John feels a bit silly for an instant, before throwing his hands up in defeat. “Okay. You got me there, satan.” You see his lips curl into a smile. “Can you please wipe get it off me now?” he points to his cheek.

You grab his hand and lead him up the stairs to your shared bedroom, still laughing. Grabbing a makeup wipe from the vanity, you gently swipe it across his cheek, watching the red tinge erase away, diminishing.

“Babe. Why.” John groans, although you can see a smile evident on his lips.

“You,” you say, patting his cheek, with an arm wrapped around his neck, “are such a dork. It was an honest mistake, but I thought I’d have a little fun with you, yenno, since you decided to leave your poor girlfriend all alone here in this big ol house with no company.” You simpered.

“I’m gonna get you back.” He states, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay there, Wick.” You mock him, laughing.

John chuckles before speaking. “You know, you’re gonna be a Wick soon as well. You gotta stop calling me Wick.” He laughs.

“Okay, Wick.” You wiggle your eyebrows, eyeing him.

John pulls you close, and wraps his arms around your waist again. “Okay, I really need to be on my way. I’ll see you in a few hours, okay? I love you.” He whispers in your ear.

“I love you too, _my_ silly, silly dork.” You giggle, arms placed on either of his shoulders. John leans down to kiss your lips fervently once again. Once you pull away, you catch a glimpse at his plump lips, which are now also tinted a shade of mahogany and let out a loud laugh. John turns to the vanity mirror, and sighs in defeat, rolling his eyes.

_“This lipstick, will be the death of me.”_


End file.
